


Just Another Sunday

by Candy_A



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Challenge: Auction story, M/M, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candy_A/pseuds/Candy_A
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair relish a quiet Sunday at home together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second auction story--my auction offer was to write a story about Jim and Blair doing something around the loft. Sorry I wasn't able to make contact with the winner--I tried, honest \--I hope you enjoy the story! 
> 
> Warnings: Just m/m--but that's more of an enticement than a warning around here, isn't it? 

## Just Another Sunday

by Candy Apple

Author's webpage: <http://internetdump.com/users/candy_a>

Author's disclaimer: Pet Fly owns the guys and The Sentinel. No money being made. Just for fun.

* * *

Just Another Sunday  
by Candy Apple 

"Seniority has definite advantages, man," Blair observed as he crawled back into bed with Jim, hauling the Sunday paper with him. With their stash of bagels and coffee and orange juice, the newspaper, and each other, the morning was shaping up just the way Blair liked it. 

"Finally got Sundays off," Jim sighed, yawning widely and moving over to kiss and nibble at Blair's shoulder while the younger man began separating the sections of the paper. The thunder clapped ominously outside, and the rain continued to pour. The bedroom was warm and cozy, the rivulets of rain on the windows only reminding them just how comfortable they were, tucked in and off duty. 

"You want the sports and the front page and the metro sections first, right?" Blair sorted them out methodically and handed them over while Jim straightened up and accepted them, stuffing his pillows behind his back. Blair had extracted a lifestyle section, a business section and the classifieds. Neither man truly cared which portion he got first, since they spent more time reading out loud to each other than they did reading on their own. 

"You've got the crossword in there somewhere, Chief?" Jim asked through a mouthful of raisin bagel. 

"Yup. But look at this--that new creepy movie we wanted to see opens this coming Friday." 

"Want to go to the late night show?" Jim suggested, looking over Blair's shoulder at the ad. 

"Sounds great. We'll probably get out of work later--something always happens on Fridays." 

"You read the latest on the trial of that nut in Denver?" Jim asked, perusing the front page. 

"Didn't they call in his first grade teacher or something to tell that the other kids had made fun of him and that's why he went berserk now?" Blair shook his head. "Yeah, I think I read that part. How'd the Jags do last night?" Blair laid his section of the paper aside and wormed his way under Jim's arm until he was resting on Jim's chest and could read with him. His head was still partially in the other man's armpit, but at least now he could read the scores for himself. 

"You want this section?" Jim smiled, looking down at the head sprouting from his right armpit. 

"What--you don't like sharing?" Blair asked innocently. 

"I like sharing everything with you, sweetheart," Jim responded honestly, kissing Blair's nose. 

"How about the other half of the raisin bagel then?" 

"Bastard," Jim shot back, grinning as he handed over the prized bagel. 

"And given with such love. Hopeless romantic as always, lover." Blair munched happily as he read the sports page with Jim. 

It took them a full two hours to get through the parts of the paper that caught their interest. When they were finished, they cleared up the debris and while Blair took the dishes downstairs and cleaned them up, Jim changed the bed to get rid of the crumbs, a couple of juice stains--and a couple of other stains from the night before. 

With the little flurry of tidying up completed, Blair went into the bathroom and drew the bath that was phase two of their Sunday ritual. Warm water scented with an herbal bath oil both men liked, they slid into the embrace of the tub, taking time to kiss and explore, making lazy, slow love in the water before getting down to the business of bathing each other. 

* * *

"You're awful quiet up there, Jim," Blair called upstairs from the living room, where he had been assigned the job of dusting, which was right up there with root canals on his list of favorite things. As far as Blair was concerned, the term "blow job" could also accurately describe his favorite method of dusting--blow the top layer off and call it good. Jim was supposedly dusting and cleaning up the bedroom, his part of their mundane little stretch of housework before the game started on TV at three. 

"C'mere a minute, Chief. I want to show you something." 

"I thought you wanted to see the game at three," Blair quipped, climbing the stairs. 

"Look what I found." Jim was sitting on the bed, a big boot box of photos open next to him. "Remember how we were going to put all our pictures in an album?" 

"Oh, yeah. Same weekend that we were going to paint the bathroom," Blair joked, sitting on the other side of the box from Jim, digging around in it now himself. Both the photo album project and the bathroom had been deferred for several months now, Jim and Blair always having something a little more fun on the docket for their days off--especially since becoming lovers six months earlier. 

"Remember Daryl's graduation party?" Jim handed Blair the photo, and the younger man smiled as he took in the scene of Jim, Simon, Daryl and himself standing around the snack table, Blair stuffing a Swedish meatball in Jim's mouth just as the photo was snapped. 

"Any old ones in there?" Blair asked, poking around himself now. "Look at the date on this envelope--1996." Blair opened it, and laughed out loud. "Simon's birthday party." 

"Hard to believe how much Daryl's grown up since then," Jim said, almost a bit sadly. "Man, time flies, doesn't it?" he observed as he took the photos, one after the other, as Blair handed them to him. 

"I don't think Simon liked me too well yet," Blair said, smiling at the photo of Jim and Blair and Simon, the smaller man between the other two. 

"I should have never let you caption these photos, Chief," Jim said, laughing as he read the back, where Blair had written "Sandburg between the Twin Towers." 

"This picture was my favorite," Blair said, handing one over to Jim. It was the two of them, sitting on the edge of Jim's desk, shoulder to shoulder, talking about something, all wrapped up in each other as if no one else was around. They had only been partners a short time, but the special rapport they shared was already building. 

"I didn't even know that Rhonda took this one. I guess she picked up the camera while we were talking and snapped it. You looked cute there." 

"Cute?" Blair asked, snickering as he got up on his knees and moved around behind Jim on the bed, kneeling behind him and wrapping his arms around Jim's neck. 

"Yeah. Cute. I always liked that black and white shirt. You looked...well... _cute_ in it." Jim referred to the shirt he first remembered seeing Blair wear the morning after he had been abducted by Lash. But then, everything about Blair had seemed more precious and endearing after almost losing him. 

"I probably have it around somewhere. I'll have to clean out my old closet downstairs and see what's at the back of it." 

"Probably something living that's _wearing_ your old clothes by now," Jim quipped. 

"Very funny." Blair found another envelope of photos. "Hey--remember this? The fishing trip we finally took after you were grabbed by Oliver's goons?" 

"How could I forget?" Jim laughed as he looked at a few assorted landscape shots, and then a few shots each of them had taken of the other with their prize "catches". "First time we slept together." 

"In the truest sense. Man, you didn't even make a move on me." 

"You were expecting me to?" 

"I was hoping," Blair confessed, laughing. "You know, I didn't really forget my extra blankets," Blair added, and Jim turned to look at him as Blair released Jim's neck and moved back a little. 

"What do you mean?" 

"After what happened...I just...I really wanted to get close to you. I was so glad you were okay, and I missed you so much while you were gone. You know, I made these inane remarks to Simon while you were missing about how I was supposed to be fishing. But it was just that I felt so...sick inside when I thought that maybe we'd never...if something happened to you, we'd never go somewhere together again, and I wouldn't have you anymore..." 

Blair let his words trail off, looking at Jim sadly, as if he'd been transported in time back to the night he'd hesitantly slipped into Jim's tent and told his sad story of leaving his extra blankets at home. Jim's reaction had been quick and natural--Blair was cold, and he had plenty of blankets and body heat to share, so he'd casually cuddled Blair close to him there in the tent, not really thinking of it as anything more than keeping him warm. 

When Blair had snuggled against him, when he'd murmured almost brokenly that he was so relieved Jim was okay, it had touched something very deep inside of Jim, and he'd held the smaller body in his arms, wishing he could find with any one of the lovely women he'd gone out with in recent years the kind of warmth and completion he felt there in the cramped tent sharing a sleeping bag with Blair. 

"We sure did tapdance around each other long enough, didn't we, baby?" Jim said, smiling at his lover. 

"We had a lot of... _stuff_ to get past." Blair looked at the box, then laughed a little. "I was just thinking how big our box is gonna be when we've been together fifty years." 

"You're going to organize these and put them into albums before then." 

" _I'm_ going to put them into albums?" Blair chortled. "Uh-uh." He climbed off the bed and pulled the plastic bag they had stashed behind the dresser that contained the large photo album. "No more procrastinating, lover." Blair hopped back on the bed, tearing the plastic wrap off the big three-ring photo album and opened the cover. "Come on, man, start sorting." 

Sorting the photos took most of the day, since both men had a tendency to stop and relive each moment as they sifted through the box. By four-thirty, the photos were in the album, and they ordered a pizza and settled in to catch the game in progress. 

* * *

After seeing the Jags through a successful game, they struck out in the truck to get a little change of scenery and pick up some groceries for the week. With Jim in charge of the cart, list in hand, methodically pulling things off the shelf to restock their usual supplies, Blair orbited Jim and the cart like a satellite. Each time he returned, he added some unlisted item--half the time, something neither of them had tried before. 

"Come here, will you?" Jim asked, affectionately annoyed at Blair's usual somewhat expensive deviation from their shopping list. "Both hands on the handle. Right there." Jim stepped back while Blair frowned, but followed the directive. "Now, let's try it this way." Jim moved up close behind Blair and slid his arms in on either side of Blair's body, holding onto the handle, his hands next to Blair's, effectively trapping the younger man's body with the extended arms. 

"Uh, Jim, you're gonna have to move your arm. I want to get--" Blair asked as they made progress down the aisle. 

"Is it on the list? If it is, we'll get to it in a few minutes," Jim responded calmly, smiling as he felt Blair practically vibrating in place. Which, considering Jim's groin was just marginally above Blair's butt, was an interesting sensation. 

"I'm surprised you didn't make me sit in the cart and shove my legs through those little squares," Blair grumbled. 

"Maybe I just wanted to cop a feel or two while we were picking out the canned veggies." Jim kissed the back of Blair's head, then returned a smile from an elderly woman in a motorized wheelchair with an attached wire grocery basket who seemed to be getting the biggest kick out of watching the two men horsing around as they shopped. 

"You just don't want me to pick out anything that isn't on your stupid list. I'll have you know that _two_ of last week's dinners weren't on your list last Sunday, either. Remember the little bow-tie pasta we used instead of the spaghetti? Or maybe that new salad dressing that someone I know practically drank out of the bottle, oohing and aahhing orgasmically all through the salad course." 

"Orgasmically? Is that a word?" Jim challenged, reaching up to take a can of tomatoes off the shelf, giving Blair a golden opportunity to escape, which he ignored. 

"It is now. Oh, hey, don't forget mushrooms." 

"Wouldn't dream of it, Chief." Jim paused, grinning. "You hear that song they're playing?" Jim whispered in Blair's ear as they passed a woman with a child in her cart who didn't quite know what to make of them in their current, Siamese-twin-like position. 

"Remember what we were doing when that came on the radio last night?" Blair responded, smiling as he felt a little shiver run through Jim's body. He figured they might be the only couple in recent history to get turned on hearing "Rhinestone Cowboy" while buying canned vegetables. Jim had been listening to the oldies station the night before, and when that particular song came on, they had been mid way through the main event on the floor in front of the fireplace in the living room. 

"Maybe we oughtta saddle up and go home, huh?" Jim suggested. 

"Give me that." Blair took the list and tore it in half, handing part of it back to Jim. "You get that stuff, I'll get this stuff and we get done twice as fast?" 

"Works for me." 

* * *

"Love song show started yet?" Blair hurried out of the bathroom, heading for the stairs at a good pace. He knew Jim would hear the question from upstairs. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, he threw the towel he'd had around his hips on the floor and climbed into bed with his equally naked lover. 

"Yeah, just got rolling. Mmmm. You smell good." Jim buried his nose in the little haven between Blair's neck and shoulder. 

"You too. What is that? It's new, right? Smells sort of familiar." 

"It's that one you got me for my birthday." 

"You should wear that more often. I told you it makes me horny." Blair started nibbling at Jim's neck, sniffing the light scent of the expensive cologne he'd chosen for Jim. It was light, clean, fresh, and classy--and it was perfect for Jim. 

"Labs all over the world are working on developing the one scent that _doesn't_." 

"Oooh, you're gonna pay for that one, man." Blair started tickling Jim's sides, grinning evilly as the other man wiggled and laughed under the assault--until he made a concerted effort to still Blair's traveling hands and shush him. 

"Listen," Jim said softly, kissing Blair quickly. The DJ's voice broke in on their little encounter. 

"Welcome to another edition of 'Love After Dark'," he drawled, trying to sound husky and sexy. "We have a caller on the line," he began, going to one of a number of pre-recorded calls. "What can I play for you tonight?" 

"'I Just Fall In Love Again'," Jim's voice came over the airwaves, and Blair stiffened with surprise, turning toward the radio as if he owed Jim's voice his undivided attention by looking at the little speaker. 

"Who should I send that out to tonight?" 

"Blair." 

"Anything special you'd like to say to Blair?" the announcer prodded. 

"Just that if I'd known that it would get us together, I would have stepped out in front of a garbage truck years ago." 

Blair laughed out loud, complete with a ribald snort. 

"Well, I think that was a first. Here's your song for Blair, Jim, and thanks for the phone call tonight. Watch out for those garbage trucks, now." 

Feeling Jim curl around him from behind, Blair turned off the bedside lamp and settled into the embrace to listen to his song while Jim kissed and nipped at his shoulder and his neck, nuzzling him and whispering little love words into his hair. 

//Dreamin', I must be dreamin'  
Or am I really lyin' here with you?  
Baby, you take me in your arms,  
And though I'm wide awake,  
I know my dream is coming true. 

And oh, I just fall in love again,  
Just one touch and then  
It happens every time,  
There I go, I just fall in love again  
And when I do,  
I can't help myself, I fall in love with you. 

Magic, it must be magic,  
The way I hold you   
And the night just seems to fly.  
Easy for you to take me to a star,  
Heaven is that moment  
When I look into your eyes...// 

By the time the refrain repeated again, Jim was gently preparing his lover, then entering him in a smooth, slow glide. Their pace was languid, much like the rest of their day together. Relishing the closeness and the romance of the moment, both men worked to prolong it, not giving in to their bodies' demands for release until the last possible moment. 

As they drifted in and out of sleep, still joined, the love songs playing on the radio, they began to look forward to their next Sunday off, hoping it, and every one of their Sundays, would be as mundane, routine and delightful as this one. 

The End 


End file.
